


I’ll Lose My Mind At Least Another Thousand Times

by ultra_violett



Series: Us Vs The World [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: But it's the internalized homophobia speaking, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Gay Disaster Richie Tozier, Gay Richie Tozier, Homophobia, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mike Wheeler is kinda homophobic in this, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Will Byers Can't Catch a Break, Will Byers Deserves Love, Will Byers Needs a Hug, alright since you guys can't behave yourselves i enabled comment moderation, at first i shipped reddie and byler, but now i’ve reached my final form and ship ryers, i'm not going to fucking budge, i've never had to do that, jesus fuck guys, just leave if you don't like what i write oml, sort of ig, this fic is ONLY going to be el/bev guys, you should be ashamed that i have to now because of you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultra_violett/pseuds/ultra_violett
Summary: Will Byers. Kind, shy, and the weirdo of the school.Richie Tozier. Smart, funny, and the trashmouth of the school.Will was always annoyed at Richie for talking too loud and saying such lewd things. Richie was always agitated by Will for not talking enough and just being a background character.The two never wanted to be friends, they practically despised each other. Until the disappearance of one thrusts the other into a search mission, during which he catches unlikely feelings for his brother’s best friend.Or maybe he doesn’t catch them, just discovers the repressed feelings he’s had all along.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Beverly Marsh, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Richie Tozier
Series: Us Vs The World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151321
Comments: 32
Kudos: 13





	1. Tag, You’re It || Will

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this book is probably going to be super long, and it’s going to start at the beginning of season one of Stranger Things! In this, Richie is Mike’s brother, but they don’t have the last name, because, basically in this universe, Karen Wheeler is their biological mother and Wentworth Tozier is their father, they got custody of separate kids, blah blah blah. Anyway Wentworth died in a car accident and left Richie with Karen so yeah bye.
> 
> playlist:  
> ♡afraid-the neighbourhood  
> ♡wish you were gay-billie eilish  
> ♡idle town-conan gray  
> ♡devil town-cavetown  
> ♡us vs the world-ilytommy  
> ♡the night we met-lord huron  
> ♡boys don’t cry-the cure  
> ♡cough syrup-melanie martinez cover  
> ♡tag, you’re it-melanie martinez  
> ♡milk and cookies-melanie martinez  
> ♡trees-mccafferty  
> ♡idontwannabeyouanymore-billie eilish  
> ♡all i want-kodaline  
> ♡haunt me (x3)-teen suicide  
> ♡chasing cars-snow patrol  
> ♡yellow-coldplay  
> ♡i will follow you into the dark-death cab for cutie  
> ♡bombs on monday-melanie martinez  
> ♡haunted-melanie martinez  
> ♡bittersweet tragedy-melanie martinez  
> ♡where’s my love? (acoustic)-SYML

“Hey, Byers!” Will looks up from his desk and to the side, where Richie Tozier sits next to him fiddling with his glasses. Richie's gotten the two detention after telling some teacher he was going to fuck their dead mother and then claiming it was Will’s idea. This was the first time Will’s ever had detention, so he just did what the teacher said, sit down and shut up, and wait until it was over.

And then the teacher went to the bathroom and Richie had been bugging Will ever since.

“What?” He hisses, whispering despite the teacher being gone and him and Richie being the only two in the room. “Sorry for roping ya in, but detention’s just so  _ boring _ alone.” Will sighs and turns away from Richie, going tense at the sound of walking outside the door. When no one walks in he turns back to the trashmouth.

“Then why didn’t you get Bev in on it?” He asks, eyeing the door to make sure Mrs. Smith doesn’t come back any second. Usually it’s Mr. Clark, the science teacher and Will’s favorite teacher who’s on detention duty, but there was also AV club today and on those days he does that instead. And sadly, Will had to miss it because Richie was a dumbass. “She’s been caught smoking way too many times. One more detention and she’d get suspended.” 

“Still didn’t have to get  _ me _ in on it. You don’t even like me!” Richie scoffs and adjusts his glasses. “When did I say that?” Will pretends to think for a second, ignoring the memory of just a week ago that pops into his brain as soon as Richie asks. “You told me I was boring. And too quiet.”

“Well maybe I wanted to hang out with you to make you more interesting! Give you a personality!” Richie’s smirking at his joke and clearly trying to hold back a laugh. Will doesn’t think it’s that funny. He has a personality, just one that doesn’t go very well with Richie’s. So for Richie to say he doesn’t have one is like him saying that Richie doesn’t have a personality when he clearly does, it’s just not a good one.

Mrs. Smith comes back before Will can come up with a response, leaving Richie even cockier because he thinks he’s won now. 

Detention ends fast, and then Will’s on his way over to Mike and Richie’s with the rest of the party. They’re gonna be playing Dnd tonight, as they usually do after school. Well, the party is. Richie and Beverly have never taken much interest in it, so they don’t play. Will has no idea what they do, he thinks they’re secretly together or something, but he knows they don’t sit in the basement and play Dnd with the party, and that’s the most he knows. He has no interest in trying to learn more about what Richie does or even really anything about Richie.

When they get to the Wheeler-Tozier household, previously just the Wheeler household, the party, consisting of Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson, all make a beeline for the basement. Richie and Bev disappear upstairs with just a shout from Karen to keep the door open. 

Mike rolls his eyes as soon as he’s closed the door to the basement. “God, he’s so annoying. How did you not go insane during detention today, Will?” Will shakes his head, shrugging as he sits in the chair he always sits in. “I don’t know. Almost did, though. He told me he roped me in with him because he wanted to give me a new personality.” Will states, eyes watching Mike as he comes down the stairs and sits in his chair across from Will. Will’s always watching Mike, but not necessarily in a weird way. He just… observes. He’s always had a crush on Mike, ever since Kindergarten, when they met. Over the years he’s learned that it’s a crush, when he was younger he thought it was pretty normal for people to be attracted to their best friends.

Turns out it’s not. And he’s a queer now, too. Yay.

“He’s such a jerk.” Dustin mutters, fiddling around with his hat. He does that a lot, for some reason. It looks kind of weird, because he doesn’t even take his hat off, he just fiddles with it on his head. “Your personality’s fine, Will.” Lucas states, reaching over and patting Will on the shoulder. “Yeah, I- _ We _ like your personality.” Mike states, smiling at Will. 

Will can’t help but blush. It’s dumb, something any friend would say, but anything even remotely nice that Mike says to him always makes him blush. Even if it’s something as dumb as “Hey, Will. Nice shirt.” He never fails to blush profusely and hope Mike doesn’t notice. He knows that he does, though. Mike’s face always changes when he notices the blush on Will’s face, but Will can’t tell yet if the change is good or bad. It’s always an emotion Will hasn’t been able to read, which is odd because he can detect every emotion Mike’s ever felt, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Except this emotion. 

“Okay, let’s play before we run out of time to, guys!” Dustin states, snapping the two out of their weird staring contest with each other. Will makes the first move, and from there they continue to play. They play through the aches they get in their hands from grabbing the pieces and rolling the dice, through bathroom and snack breaks. They play until day becomes night, for so long the numbers on the clock blur through their brains and they’ve lost track of time.

“Something is coming, something hungry for blood.” Mike murmurs, looking down at the board. “A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. It is almost here.” Everyone at the table leans into Mike, curious about what’s coming.

“What is it?” Will asks. “What if it’s the Demogorgon?” Dustin asks, looking at Will, who’s flopping back in his seat. “Oh, Jesus. We’re so screwed if it’s the Demogorgon.” Dustin mutters, rubbing his forehead. “It’s not the Demogorgon.”

“An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber.” Mike states, putting the piece down on the board. “Troglodytes?” Dustin asks, sounding sort of disappointed. “Told ya.” Lucas says, laughing. Will and Dustin laugh a little too, but Mike doesn’t. “Wait a minute.” He murmurs. “Did you hear that? That, that sound.”

“Boom… boom… boom!” Mike slams his hand on the table, making everyone else flinch. “That didn’t come from the troglodytes. No, that… that came from something else.” Mike slams another figure on the board.

“The demogorgon!”

Will and Lucas groan. “Aw, we’re in deep shit!” Dustin exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Will, you’re action.” Mike shouts at Will, who shakes his head. “I don’t know!” Lucas sighs. “Fireball him!” He states, but Will knows that isn’t a good idea. “But I’d have to roll a 13 or higher!” He states. 

“Too risky. Cast a protection spell.” Dustin states. “Don’t be a pussy. Fireball him!” Will looks over at Dustin for help. “Cast protection.” Mike slams his hands on the table. “The demogorgon is tired of your silly humans bickering! It stomps towards you. Boom.”

“Fireball him!” 

“Another stomp, boom!” 

“Cast protection!” 

“He roars in anger.”

Will doesn’t know what to do, there’s too much pressure on him. Everyone’s shouting at him. So he picks up the dice and does the first thing that comes to mind. “Fireball!” He exclaims, rolling the dice and really,  _ really _ hoping for a 13. It rolls off the table. Everyone stands immediately to go get it. “Where’d it go? Where is it?” Lucas asks.

“I don’t know!” Will states. “Is it a 13?” Dustin asks. Will shakes his head. “I don’t know!” Dustin begins pacing, holding his hands to his head. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” He keeps repeating it over and over as he paces.

The door to the basement opens. “Mike!” Karen shouts down the stairs. “Mom, we’re in the middle of a campaign.” Mike states, sitting up on his knees to look up at his mom. “You mean the end? Fifteen after.” Karen states before walking away. Will keeps looking for the dice, trying to ignore everything around him. He has to know if the demogorgon took him or not.

Will stands, finally grabbing the dice in his hand. “I got it!” He states, walking over to Lucas. “Does a seven count?” He asks, holding the dice out for Lucas to see, seven facing up, like how he found it. “It was a seven?” Will nods. Lucas grabs the dice from his hand just to make sure. “Did Mike see it?” Will shakes his head, because he doesn’t  _ think _ Mike did. That doesn’t mean he didn’t, but Will doesn’t think he saw it. “Then it doesn’t count.”

Will walks away to throw his jacket on and grab his backpack. As he’s walking up the stairs Dustin stops him and Lucas. “Hey guys, does anyone want this?” They both shake their heads. “No.” Will goes upstairs and out to the garage, where his bicycle is. 

Dustin comes out a few minutes later, followed by an irritated looking Richie. “There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin says to Mike, going over to his bike. “There’s something wrong with this whole family.” Richie mutters, adjusting his glasses as he looks over at Will and then away. There was something on his face there, the same look Mike gets on his face when Will blushes. But Will still can’t tell what it is.

“What are you talking about?” Mike asks Dustin. “She’s got a stick up her butt.” He states, mounting his bike. “Yeah, it’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” Lucas states as he turns on the light on his bike. Will turns his on as well. “Yeah, she’s being a real jerk.” Dustin states. “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Nuh-uh, she used to be cool.” Dustin states. “Like that time she dressed up as an elf for our elder tree campaign.” He continues, starting to ride away. “Four years ago!” Mike shouts. “Just saying.”

Will doesn’t follow the others just yet. “It was a seven.” Mike turns to him, confused. “Huh?” 

“The roll, it was a seven.” Will explains. “The Demogorgon, it got me.” Mike doesn’t respond, and Richie just stares at him oddly. He sighs. “Welp, see you tomorrow.” He states before riding off. 

He joins up with the others quickly, they luckily hadn’t gotten too far ahead. Lucas’ house comes first. “Goodnight, ladies.” He says, riding off toward his house. “Kiss your mom night for me.” Dustin responds, but doesn’t draw a retort from Lucas. “Race back to my place? Winner gets a comic.” Dustin states, turning to Will. “Any comic?” Dustin nods. “Yeah.”

Will stands on his bike and starts peddling faster, trying to win that X-Men 134 that Dustin has. Luckily, Dustin wasn’t ready yet, and he isn’t able to catch up to Will. INstead, he opts for shouting at Will to get back there. But Will just laughs. “I’ll take your X-Men 134!” He shouts back at Dustin. 

And then he’s alone, riding in the dark with nothing but the occasional unbroken streetlight and the light on his bike shining in front of him. He doesn’t mind this alone time too much, even when it is the night, because it’s a small town. He feels safe.

Or at least, he feels safe until he comes across an eight foot tall creature in his path. He panics and veers off the road, discarding his bike when it tips and running home. No one’s home when he gets there, and he locks the door, but it starts unlocking after a minute of being okay. So he does the only thing he knows and runs to the shed out back, grabbing the gun in there and loading it. 

The creature doesn’t come back, but suddenly the light in the shed starts getting brighter and brighter, causing Will to close his eyes.

And when he opens them, he’s in his shed, except it’s a lot darker, a lot colder, and there are vines everywhere. When he calls out for someone, his voice just echoes. Outside the shed is the same. Vines, cold, a greyish blue hue everywhere. He has no idea where he is.


	2. Next Time You’re Alone, Think Twice When You Grab The Phone || Richie

“Hey, jerkface. Get up. We’re gonna be late for school.” Richie groans and turns over, out of Mike’s grasp on his arm. Mike sighs and walks away, and Richie thinks he’s won for a minute until suddenly he feels a shit ton of cold wetness hitting his face, neck, and shoulders. He sits up abruptly, spluttering as he runs his hands through his now dripping hair.

“You dick!” Mike shrugs. “You wouldn’t get up. Now let’s go.” He states, grabbing Richie’s glasses and tossing them at him. Richie sighs, grabs his glasses from where they landed on his lap, and sticks them on his face. They quickly get covered in water from the drops falling off his curls, but he just takes them off and wipes them away with the (hopefully) clean shirt he picks up off the floor to wear. 

It’s an old grey shirt with a Freeses logo on it. He picks out a pair of jeans and a pink Hawaiian shirt to go with it, along with his worn out black Converse. 

When Richie gets downstairs and to the dining room, everyone except Mike stare at him.

“Why are you wet?” Karen asks, sighing and walking over to him. She touches his hair, but quickly pulls her hand away. “Mike dumped water on me to wake me up.” He states, shrugging and walking over to his seat at the table, in between Holly and Mike. Karen sighs again. “Michael!” 

“What? It’s the only thing I could think of.” Karen sighs again and goes to sit, but just then the phone rings. She walks over and answers it as Mike and Nancy get in some stupid arguement about putting jelly on eggs or something. Richie doesn’t know, he isn’t paying attention. Not to anything.

That is, until he hears Karen say “No, Will’s not here. Did he not come home last night?”  _ That _ grabs his attention. If someone, most likely Joyce, is asking about Will spending the night last night, then that must mean something’s happened to Will. He isn’t home, he’s disappeared, most likely at least.

Richie tries not to let it worry him and tries to rationalize. He probably just went to school early and Joyce doesn’t know. Yeah, that’s what happened. He’s fine.

Richie doesn’t know why he cares. He doesn’t really like Will that much, so he really shouldn’t care, but for some fucking reason he does. 

He tries to shake it off though. _Will is_ _perfectly fine,_ he tells himself. And he continues to repeat that to himself over the rest of breakfast and on the way to school. Richie only stops when they get to the bike racks and Will’s bike isn’t there. _That’s_ unusual. Will always bikes to school. And since Joyce was calling asking if Will spent the night at the Wheelers’, then that can only mean one thing.

Will’s gone missing.

⯀⯀⯀

Richie’s suspicions are confirmed as true when he, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas get collected after school. The other three were going to their dumb AV club thing, and he was on his way to the bike racks to meet with Bev. Until the principal came over to him and told him to come to his office.

He’s forced to squeeze onto the small couch in the principal’s office in between Dustin and Mike. Everyone except Richie is rambling about Will, and the last time they saw him, or something. Richie can’t tell, he would have thought that with his brain constantly rushing the way it does he’d learn to pick one thing out from everything else and listen to only it by now, but alas, he is not so fortunate. It all sounds like gibberish still, even after thirteen years of dealing with his racing mind.

“Okay, okay, okay.” The chief of police, Hopper, finally says, raising his hand and shutting everyone up. “One at a time, all right? You, the quiet one.” He states, pointing at Richie. Mike scoffs and crosses his arms, muttering under his breath about how Richie is the least quiet of them all, which earns him a shush from Hopper.

Richie shrugs and adjusts his thick coke bottle glasses. “I don’t know. He’s not my friend.” He states. Hopper stares at him, but it’s different from the way people usually stare at him. There’s something in Hopper’s stare, in his eyes, that just makes Richie feel like he can see right through him. Like he can read all his secrets.

Like he can tell the only reason Richie pretends to hate Will is because he wants to kiss him. So Richie’s thought process is that if he just simply pushes Will away, then the feelings will go away too. It hasn’t worked yet, but he also hasn’t lost hope just yet, either.

Hopper clears his throat and looks away from Richie, to Mike. “Right, then you.” Mike starts speaking immediately. “You said he takes what?” Mike nods. “Mirkwood.” Hopper just stares at him, like he did with Richie. But his gaze on Mike is different from Richie’s. It’s not so… knowing, not so aggressive, like he’s staring right through Mike. And that only confirms Richie’s suspicions that he knows something about Richie now that Richie definitely doesn’t want him to know.

“Mirkwood?” Hopper asks, staring at Mike, confused. Mike nods again. “Yeah.” Hopper stares at him still, like he’s waiting for an explanation. “Have you ever heard of Mirkwood?” Hopper asks his partner, another officer sitting in the chair next to his with a notepad and pen to write down everything the kids are saying. He shakes his head. “I have not. Sounds made up to me.”

“No, it’s from Lord of the Rings.” Lucas states. “Well, The Hobbit.” Dustin corrects. Lucas looks over at him, frustrated. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“He asked!” Dustin exclaims. “‘He asked!’” Lucas mocks in a high, whiny voice. Hopper leans forward in his chair, clearly frustrated. “Hey, hey, hey! What’d I just say? One at a damn time. You.” Hopper says, referring to Mike again. “Mirkwood, it’s a real road. It’s just the name that’s made up. It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Mike explains.

“Yeah, all right, I think I know that.” Hopper mutters, leaning back in his chair. “We can show you if you want.” Mike continues. “I said that I know it.” Hopper repeats, voice stern and irritated. “We can help look.” Mike states. 

“No.” Hopper states, causing everyone but Richie to start fighting to speak again, all stating that they can, that’ll it’ll be perfectly safe, just let them, _ please hopper?  _ “No, after this, you are all to go home. Immediately. That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn’t some Lord of the Rings book.” Hopper states.

“The Hobbit.” Dustin corrects, causing Lucas to lean over and slap him in the thigh. “Shut up!” Lucas states. Dustin starts pushing him around, which ends up to be really uncomfortable for Richie, because he’s still in between Mike and Dustin, and Lucas is on the other side of Mike. So Dustin’s reaching over two people to fight with Lucas right now.

Richie sighs and stands, and the two only break apart for a second before going back at hitting each other. Hopper watches him as he walks only a few steps away from the couch. “You sure you don’t know anything that could help? Even a hideout, a clubhouse or something? Anything?” Richie shakes his head. 

“You can go then kid, as long as you go straight home as soon as you leave this room.” Richie salutes him, smiling like a dope. “Ay, ay, captain! Straight home.” Richie states in a shitty pirate accent. Hopper just sighs and starts yelling at the boys on the couch to leave each other alone.

Richie goes out to the bike racks, where Beverly’s leaning against the red brick wall waiting for him. She’s smoking a cigarette, her red curls shining in the sunlight. They reach only to just about her chin, she’s been trying to grow them out but with how short she cut them before it’s taking forever. Her blue eyes are glimmering as they always do with something mischievous, and she’s smiling as Richie walks over. She drops her half smoked cigarette that’s most likely not her first of them as she waited and snubs it out with her old brown combat boot.

“Took ya long enough, trashmouth! Where were you?” Richie shrugs, grabbing his bike out of the rack and mounting it once he’s close enough to. “Will’s missing, had to answer questions, even though I don’t know anything about that loser.” Bev gives Richie a sad look. “He’s nice, and he’s missing. Be nice, okay? I think your comments get to him more than he shows.” Richie just shrugs and watches as Beverly mounts her own bike, dark colored dress fluttering in the wind. It’s printed with flowers, and one sleeve hangs off her shoulder, showing off pale skin dotted with freckles and a lavender colored bra strap. It’s because when Beverly shops, most of the time it’s at thrift shops, and she doesn’t really look at sizes. Richie thinks he’s seen her wearing a XXL shirt before, just because she liked it and since it’s a thrift shop, it was the only one they had. They obviously didn’t have other size options. 

“Checking me out? Hate to break it to ya but you’re not my type.” Richie flips her off and glares at her as he kicks off on his bike. “Fuck you, Marsh.” He states, listening as she peddles quickly to catch up to him.


	3. I Try and Laugh About It, Hiding The Tears in My Eyes || Will

He can hear people, the sounds of their laughter, walking, talking, all of it echoing through the void of the place he’s in. Will doesn’t know where that void is, but he knows he can hear the people in the normal world in that void. 

He had first gone back to his house that morning and had listened as his mother panicked over his whereabouts, heart aching and wishing he could be there now. Wishing this hadn't happened. And now she probably thinks he’s dead. And despite him not being dead yet, between the chill in the air that seems to get worse with every passing second, the lack of food and water, and the monster that comes across him occasionally, there’s not a high chance of him getting out of this alive.

Not a high chance at all, he thinks as he runs along the landscape, listening to the familiar voices of Richie and Bev joking with each other as they ride home. They soon part, however, leaving Will in a silence that’s louder than anything else he’s ever heard. He’d figured Richie was the type of person to talk to himself, but it turns out he isn’t. He’s clearly the type to get stuck in his head for hours and never get bored, even despite his ADHD that seems to make him lose interest in everything only five seconds after it’s introduced to him. 

Will slows to a walk now, letting the image of Richie he has in his mind dissolve. Soon the sound of Richie’s bike riding off disappears, signaling he’s ridden away from Will without even knowing it. Will decides then that it’d be a good idea to find some sort of shelter. He’s incredibly tired after not sleeping at all last night, too freaked out by everything to even attempt to find a place to stay.

He soon realizes that every shelter here is empty, even if there’s the sound of people in it on the earth, on the surface, wherever they were. But down here, in the void, they’re all empty, but still loud and full of the sounds of families, couples, or even just singular people.

So Will heads off to the only place he thinks of that people wouldn’t constantly be in to disturb his sleep. Castle Byers.

It’s about a ten minute walk to Castle Byers, and during that time Will makes sure to look out for anything he could step on that would make a noise. He had learned the hard way that even though the monster doesn’t  _ technically _ have a face or ears, it can still hear. But luckily it can’t see, so that’s definitely in Will’s favor there.

When he gets to Castle Byers, he grabs the bat sitting in the corner from when his father tried to get him to join softball but it never worked. And then he lays on the small, dirty mattress, clutching the bat tightly in his hand in case the monster comes by, and lets himself drift off as he sings his favorite song Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash. He sings quietly, of course, only loud enough for himself to hear. Luckily it’s enough to soothe him to sleep despite his nerves.

⯀⯀⯀

Will’s woken by a roar nearby. Like, really nearby. Only a few feet away nearby. He’s still got the bat in his hand, so he holds it as tightly as possible, his knuckles turning white from the strain. And he listens. The thing walks towards Castle Byers, stopping right in behind it and roaring, as though it could sense Will’s presence in the shelter, even if it can’t see him.

So Will does the only thing he can think of. He stands and runs, as fast as he can. He disregards the occasional noise he makes from stepping on something, just trying to run. Will doesn’t let that bat slip from his grasp, either. He holds it tight, until he trips over the root of a tree and faceplants. The bat falls from his hand, landing a few feet away with a thunk. One of his knees scrapes across the rough ground, his face landing hard and even bouncing off before landing again. His hand that wasn’t holding the bat, his left one, scratches along the ground as well. 

But Will doesn’t let it stop him, because that monster’s still running. He stands, grabs his bat, and runs faster even though his knee stings so bad his eyes cloud with tears from the pain. It’s not just his knee causing all the pain, it’s also the scrapes on his hands and the most likely forming bruise on his forehead from where he hit it twice. All the pain’s combining to an ultimate, terrible pain. A pain only comparable to when Will fell off his bike when he was first learning to ride without training wheels and skidded across the pavement of the road. That had ended with a ton of scratches on his face, knees, and elbows. He’d been covered with bandaids for two weeks after that.

That was actually when he was first called ‘fairy.’ He’d been covered with the colorful bandaids his mom put on, went to school, and Troy eyed him for a second. And then Troy yelled, in front of Will’s whole first grade class, that Will was a little fairy. People had called him that ever since.

Will shakes the terrible memory from his mind, but it’s too late because he’s already made himself distracted. He’s already tripped again, already going down. This time he sticks a hand out to catch himself, but it doesn’t work too well. His left hand hits the ground with a sharp crack followed by lighting bolts of pain from Will’s wrist up his arm. 

He finally just gives up and lays on the ground, trying to recover from probably just breaking his wrist. That’s at least what it had sounded and felt like, at least. Will’s never broken a bone but he can assume this is what it feels like. 

He lets himself lay on the ground as the monster runs right past him and to something in the distance. And once he’s sure it’s far away enough, he laughs a dry laugh. Because that thing hadn’t even been chasing him. And now he’s covered in scrapes, bruises, and he’s broken his wrist. 

He’s such a fucking idiot.


	4. We’ll Do It All, Everything, On Our Own || Richie

Dinner is awkward… to say the least. Tense, would be a better word. Nancy tries to ask if she can go to Barb’s, Mike tries to convince Karen to let him go out and look for Will. Of course, she says no to both, causing the two to storm off. (But not after arguing with her) Richie also tries to ask if he can go to Bev’s, which almost always gets a no so this time it got a hard no. So he storms off too, because why the fuck not, honestly? And then he hears Karen take Holly and storm off a moment later.

So basically a thirteen year old goes missing and now Richie’s whole family’s falling apart. Well, scratch that. His family’s never been  _ together _ . His biological mom and dad weren’t even together when Richie and Mike were born. They just settled custody and never spoke again until Wentworth died. And even after Richie was with his older sister, twin brother, younger half sister, and stepdad, things still weren’t better. His family life still wasn’t together. In fact, it was even worse than before. Karen forces Mike to hang out with Richie, trying to make them close, when in reality it’s only separating them more. The two have nothing in common, none of Mike’s friends are anything like Richie either, and Bev is the only person outside of the Party willing to be nice to Richie. Everyone else hates him.

Richie sighs and flops down on his bed, bouncing a little bit from it before finally resting. His glasses are crooked on his face from the fall to his bed, making his vision a bit skewed, but he doesn’t try to fix them.

Suddenly his overhead light begins flashing, in a pattern that Richie recognizes. It takes him a second to actually  _ remember _ what it is. It’s morse code.

Someone’s trying to communicate through his light with morse code. He grabs a notebooks from his desk and scribbles on it, writing the dots and dashes until the light stops flashing and goes back to just staying on. And then he tries to remember how to translate morse code, because he really doesn’t want to get Mike involved.

After about ten minutes of trying, he’s only gotten some of the sentence done, and the rest won’t come back to his brain. 

And so far, it goes ‘H ● ● **-** ●● ● **\--** ●  **-** ● **-** ●  **\---** L  **-** ●● ● **\- -** ●  **-** ●●  **-** ●● ● **-** rk.’ Which, yeah, not very translatable. So, defeated, Richie grabs the paper and goes next door to Mike’s room. He knocks, no answer, then again, still no answer, so he opens the door. Empty.

Richie checks the basement next, empty, and the door’s unlocked. So Richie can figure out what happened pretty quickly. Mike pretended to go hang out in the basement and snuck out to find Will. Which should have been expected, really.

He chooses not to tell Karen, because if he knows Mike’s snuck out, then if he threatens Mike with Mike’ll help him sneak out or something if he needs to. He’s basically just gonna keep it as blackmail until he needs it. 

Richie sits in one of the seats at the table where the Party typically plays Dnd and sets the paper down to try and figure out what it might say. But still, his mind draws a blank. So he searches the basement in hopes of finding a cheat sheet for morse code, but all he finds are instructions for Dnd buried under the couch and some drawings in a binder, all signed by Will.

“Fucking fuck. Motherfucker.” He mutters, frustrated, as he goes back to his seat and stares down at the paper. Just as he’s about to lose hope and drop the pencil, the lights in the basement flicker. Morse code, again.

●●●  **\---** ●●●

He recognizes this one easily. It’s one that’s always been ingrained in his mind, in case of being kidnapped or something he guesses. He has no idea, but it’s always been there.

**_SOS_ **

Those three simple letters make him anxious, for some reason. Or, more anxious. He’s been anxious since the first message, and the eeriness of getting messages from the lights in his house mixed with this weird feeling of not being alone are both making him anxious as hell.

The door opens then, causing him to jump just about three feet in the air. But he calms when he sees it’s just Mike, Lucas, and Dustin. Except it’s not just them, they’ve got someone else with them. A boy in a Benny’s Burgers shirt and a shaved head.

“What the hell?”

“What are you doing down here?” 

The boys ask at the same time. Mike glares at Richie before asking again. “What are you doing down here?” He asks, slow and calm even though he’s clearly agitated for some reason. Probably because Richie’s in the basement, which is meant specifically for Mike.

Richie holds up the notebook paper with the morse code on it. “I’ve got morse code, and I’m not that good with it, so I need help.” Mike sighs, pushing his soaked coat and shoes off before walking over to Richie and snatching the paper.

“Where did you get this morse code?” Richie shrugs. “The lights.” Mike just blinks at him, clearly not amused. “Seriously, where did you get it?” He asks again, tired of Richie’s jokes. “ _ The lights _ . They started flashing and it was obviously morse code.” 

“How did you connect morse code to the lights flashing? It was probably just the storm.” Richie sighs and stares at Mike for a second. “Can you translate it or not?”

Mike nods and glances back at the paper. “It says ‘Help cold and dark.’ And then the sos you put below it.” He states before shoving the paper back at Richie and pushing him out of the chair and towards the stairs. “Now get out.” Richie plants his feet on the ground, though, and doesn’t budge.

“Who the fuck is that?” He asks, pointing at the boy who’s now sitting on the couch and no doubt soaking it. “We don’t know.” Richie raises an eyebrow at Mike. “You don’t know his name?” Mike takes his hands from Richie’s back, where he was pushing him, and takes a few steps towards the boy on the couch.

“She’s a she.” He states. Richie stares at  _ her _ . “What happened to her hair?” He asks. Mike shrugs. “We don’t know. She won’t tell us anything.” He states, walking over to the couch. “But now that you know about her, you can’t tell mom. We’re gonna figure something out but you have to  _ promise _ you won’t tell mom.” Richie sighs and stares at the girl on the couch. She’s shivering, looking increasingly awkward as the seconds pass, and just looking miserable all around. Richie thinks it would just be downright cruel to rat her out and have her shipped off to an orphanage or even her abusive parents, if they were the ones who did this to her. 

So he nods. 

“I won’t tell.” He promises, eyes not moving from the girl’s. Her’s won’t move from his, either, and there’s something on her face, almost like she recognizes him.


	5. It’s No Fun When I’m Sitting All Alone, You’re Right in Front of Me || Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *heavy sighing* i can’t believe i have to clarify this, but i don’t make fics to people please. i won’t mold my fics around what you want. if you don’t like what i write, just don’t read it. i’m not forcing you to read this. if you don’t like the ships or content in this book, don’t complain about it, please just leave. i’m not trying to be rude when i say this, but it’s the truth.

Will sits down, tired, and slumps down against the chair of the basement. He’d been following Richie around the house, trying to get him to acknowledge his presence, and in that time had realized he can use technology, specifically lights, to communicate with Richie. Luckily he had gotten it and written down everything, and Will had only finally allowed himself to relax once Mike had helped Richie figure out the message.

Now maybe they’ll find him before he dies, or damages his wrist beyond repair. Of course, the wrist thing wouldn’t be as bad as death, but it does hurt worse and worse with every passing minute since the break happened, and there’s nothing in this void that could fix it. Will’s tried to search, but he doesn’t think he’d know how to fix it even if he  _ could _ find something.

So he deals with it, just like he deals with the hunger and dehydration and tiredness. He deals with it all, because he wants to live. He wants to get through this. Will knows it’s going to be hard, but he’s sure he can get through it if he can keep sending messages.

Earlier he had tried to ‘call’ his mom, but the phone stopping working as soon as she said “Hello?” into the receiver. There hadn’t even been enough time for her to hear the “Mom” Will had whimpered out at hearing her voice. Even though he can hear her voice echo through the void when she’s at home and he’s there, too, it’s not the same, because the void makes the voices echoey and quiet, not as humanlike.

And even though it hadn’t been much of a conversation, Will had dropped to the floor and  _ sobbed _ . He missed his mom so much. He just wanted a hug from her, if nothing else, just a hug. 

He doubts he’ll ever get one of her reassuring, amazing hugs ever again, though. As much as Will wants to hope he’ll get through this, there’s that feeling, that knowledge that he won’t. There’s that voice telling him to just give up now, lose hope, curl up in a ball in Castle Byers and die, because that’s going to happen no matter what. He’s in the void, there’s no chance of anyone finding him here.

But he shakes that voice away. He’s only been here for a day, it’s too early to lose hope even though he’s hungry, thirsty, tired, and in all sorts of pain. He’s not dead yet, and he doesn’t plan to be anytime soon.

Will sits on the ground like that for a bit, listening to his friends and Richie talk until he finally gets enough energy to stand and walk back to his house. The phone’s been replaced, and as much as a bad idea he knows it’ll be, he tries to call again. He can only breathe once more before the phone’s fried as he’s lost connection, forced only to listen to his mother’s yelling into the receiver as he drops the phone. It was worth a shot, he supposes, even though that means his mom’s going to have to spend  _ more _ money on a new phone.

The familiar screeching of the monster, what he’s named the demogorgon, comes soon after the call failing. Will stands and leaves the house before the monster comes to try and find him.

After he leaves, he searches around the town for a bit, trying to find food or water or really anything edible. There’s no way he’s going to survive without it for longer than a week, maybe two if he’s lucky somehow.

Hell, he’s been here for two days and he’s already experiencing the typical signs of extreme dehydration. Dizziness, extreme fatigue, and confusion. So yeah, he’s fucked if he doesn’t at least get a bottle of water in him soon. Or even just a soda. Despite them being less hydrating, less hydration is better than no hydration at all.

Will searches everywhere in Hawkins, which is as far as he’s willing to go in this void. There’s no maps or anything here, so he really doesn’t want to get lost. And the one time he  _ tried  _ to go over the city line, it was like there was an invisible wall. He physically couldn’t get past it.

So he stays in Hawkins, and manages to find  _ somewhat _ edible food at the grocery store. Really the only edible stuff was the things that couldn’t go bad. Canned things, candy, flat sodas, water. That stuff. Not good stuff, but sort of edible stuff.

He grabs a ton of cans, more than he knows he could eat, but he’s fucking starving, so he doesn’t care. He stocks up on that shit, grabbing one of the grocery bags from the cash registers and piling as much as he can in there, a few cans and some bottles of water, as much as he could fit in the bag without ripping it, and runs back to Castle Byers as fast as possible. 

Somehow the demogorgon doesn’t hear the rustling bag. Will decides to go back for more trips tomorrow so he doesn’t have to leave for food every single day, but today he’s tired, between all the walking to find food and all the communicating to Richie and Joyce, mixed with the dehydration, he really just wants to sleep forever.

But he doesn’t he opens a can of food and he eats it, and then he eats another, and downs two bottles of water before finally laying down for the night. His wrist throbs painfully, matching with his heartbeat, but as before, Will ignores it and holds his bat tightly, in his good hand, as he drifts off to an alert, light sleep, so he could wake up if he hears anything.


	6. I’ll Lose My Mind At Least Another Thousand Times || Richie

School seems… empty without Will the next day. Of course, before it had felt empty, but now it’s worse, as though the gravity of the situation and the reality of Will really not being alive have actually sunk into Richie’s brain. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t want to care, but at the same time he cares so much. At the same time he wants to walk right out of this algebra classroom and find Will himself, hug Will tight and kiss his forehead when he finds him, assure Will that everything’s okay, that he’s safe now, because Richie’s got him.

Richie shakes his head, as though that could shake the thoughts away. He can’t think about boys that way, it’s not right. It’s bad, a sin. He’ll go to hell if he thinks like that.

But Richie can’t help it. 

Richie’s hands are shaking from the thoughts, he wants to cry. He’s thought about boys before, sure. But he’s always been able to make the thoughts go away. This time they won’t. They won’t leave his brain, they’re stuck, as though they’re pictures superglued to the back of his eyes, so he’s always forced to see them.

He starts to cry, despite himself. 

Luckily, no one’s noticed yet. Richie knows if Mike were here he would notice, but he stayed home with that girl, Eleven, El for short. She’s got a number name, a number tattooed on her wrist. So they’ve named her Eleven for now.

When the crying gets worse and Richie knows he can’t control it, he just stands and walks out of the classroom, not saying anything to anyone as he does. Mr. Jones, the teacher, looks like she wants to say something, but then she sees the look on his face and says nothing. Richie goes to the same place he always goes, the roof of the school, where he pulls a pack of cigarettes, Winstons, out of his pocket, and lights one.

The door opens when he’s about halfway through the cigarette, and Richie knows it’s Beverly Marsh. She’s the only one that knows their ‘secret’ smoking spot, the roof. 

He’s glad it’s Bev, too. She’s the only one he’s close enough to cry around. The only one that Richie feels doesn’t judge him, won’t judge him. She’s into both girls and guys, there’s no way she’s going to hate him for liking just guys.

“I don’t know what happened, except Mr. Jones came in Mr. Clark’s class and asked for me, and then he told me to check on you, wherever you were, once we were away from the class. And I come up here and you’re smoking, and crying.” Richie just nods, blowing out the grey smoke from the cigarette. “Wanna talk about it?” He shrugs, and she grabs a cigarette and joins him in smoking. She much prefers Marlboros, but because she’s been caught smoking so much, she gets random locker and bag checks, and the pockets of her dresses are so small they would show the outline of even a few cigarettes and a lighter, so she makes due with Richie’s Winstons.

“I think I’m gay.” Richie says as he’s lighting his second cigarette. Beverly looks at him, and smiles at him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “We can bond over cute guys now.” Richie tries to feign a laugh, but it doesn’t work as well as it usually does. He’s been bottling everything up, suppressing it, for too long. Everything’s just coming out now. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to be.” He murmurs, voice hoarse from the crying. There’s still tears flowing down his face, landing on his jeans and leaving dark spots on the thighs of them. Richie fiddles with his Hawaiian shirt, decorated with flamingos and pink flowers. Bev’s smile fades, and she takes Richie’s restless right hand in her own left hand. “I know. It’ll be okay though. We’ve got each other, and I don’t care.”

“I like Will, though.” 

Bev sighs, takes another breath of her cigarette, and tosses it over the edge of the roof. It lands in the grass. “I’m sorry, Rich. He might still be alive.” She says, taking her hand from his and pulling his head against her chest. He goes willingly with her grasp, even letting her take the cigarette from his hands, take a hit, and then throw it over to meet the same fate hers did. 

“I think he is.” Bev threads her fingers through Richie’s hair, staring down at their feet that are swinging against the building, occasionally hitting the brick wall harshly. “How do you know?” Bev asks Richie, taking his glasses off and setting them next to her. “It’s gonna sound dumb.” Richie mutters, cuddling closer to Bev. “Try me.” She states with a scoff.

“Last night, the lights were flashing, and I just… somehow knew it was morse code, so I wrote it down, and Mike translated it.” Richie explains, sniffling and reaching up to wipe some of his tears away. There are less coming out of his eyes now, his crying fit coming to an end. “And what did it say?” Bev asks, cleaning the wet spots off Richie’s glasses and slipping them back on his face.

“‘Help, cold and dark.’ And after that just ‘SOS’.” Richie says, moving from Bev’s arms and adjusting his glasses. “Definitely sounds like a message, but from where? How is Will communicating through the lights?” Bev asks, pushing a curl out of her face and behind her ear, only for it to pop right back into her face.

“That’s what we need to find out, Molly.” Richie says, bringing back that dumb old nickname he uses sometimes for Bev, ‘Molly Ringwald’, even though she doesn’t look anything like her. It’s just because they’re both ginger, Bev’s sure. But despite her flipping Richie off and rolling her eyes to the nickname, she loves it, the subtle, annoying way Richie shows his fondness for people.

“Then we find out after school. For now…” She trails off, listening to the bell ring. “Lunch?” Richie nods and stands, yelling “Last one to the cafeteria has to pay for lunch!” As he runs to the door. Bev laughs and runs after him, happy she could help Richie feel better, even if it’s only slightly.


	7. I Don’t Wanna Be You Anymore || Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i-
> 
> i feel like i've genuinely lost braincells, because in the past week, i have talked to not one but TWO people that think polyamory means one person can date two people at the same time without those two people dating each other, and one person that thinks polygamy is legally and morally okay.
> 
> if ya'll need a dictionary or sources or something then just ask and stop acting all smart because polygamy is when one person is dating or married to multiple people at a time, and none of those people are together, for example: guy1/girl1, guy1/girl2, guy1/girl3, etc. polyamory is when multiple people are all dating each other, for example: guy1/guy2, guy1/girl, girl/guy2. your guys' definitions of things is warped beyond belief holy shit.

He was listening to it all. He’d been following Richie around to the best of his ability all day. Of course he heard the conversation. Will didn’t know how to feel. Of course he was okay with Richie being gay, Will was supportive of gay people all the way. 

Hell, he was gay himself.

But the thing about Richie liking him, that was what he didn’t know how to react to. Richie never acted like he liked Will, he acted like he despised him. And it had always hurt, because to be honest, Will liked Richie back.

Will always thought it was Mike he liked, and at first it had been, but being alone with nothing but his thoughts has made him realize something. Made him realize that it was Richie that he’s liked these past few months, but he wasn’t ready to accept he’d moved on from his childhood crush, so he continued to think it was Mike he liked, when it hadn’t been Mike for months.

So to know Richie liked Will? It was a lot to process for the poor boy. His brain was fried from the fatigue of living in this void. There was no concept of time here, so he didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping but he knew it wasn’t a full night. Most of the time, if he could make a guess, he sleeps for three to four hours at most. After that he goes to the grocery store to stock up on food, brings it back to Castle Byers and eats ‘breakfast’. And then he just sits around sometimes, staring at the walls of the castle and getting lost in his brain, but still being alert. Other times he explores Hawkins a bit, going into people’s houses and seeing what they look like in there.

Anyway, back to Richie liking Will. It was just a lot for Will, so instead of fully processing that and letting it sink in, he files it away for later, when he’s out of this void. If he’s ever out.

Luckily Richie had knew he message was morse code, and had figured it out, so that’s good. That means Will’s a step closer, even if it’s a small step, to getting out of the void and going back to the surface. 

Once school’s over, or when Will guesses it’s over, he waits outside for the familiar voices of Richie and Bev. And he runs after them back to the Wheeler house, going to Richie’s room, as he has been for the past few days. He waits until he’s sure Richie’s in his room, and he does what he had the night before. He communicates with Richie.

●●  **-** ●●● ● **\--**

**_(It’s Will)_ **

Will hears Richie call Mike into the room, and then exclaim that “It’s morse code again, Mike! Look!” 

“What does it say, Mike?” Richie’s voice echoes after Will’s sure he’s wrote it down. There’s tense silence filled with anticipation on Will’s end, and then Mike speaks. “‘It’s Will.’ That’s what it says.”

Will breathes out a sigh of relief now that he knows they can translate it. Or, Mike can. He never knew Mike knew that much morse code, but apparently he does. There’s scribbling of a pencil again.

“Here’s a key for morse code so you don’t need my help anymore. I’ve gotta go.” Mike states. “Where the fuck are you going? To fuck your weird new girlfriend?” Richie asks.

“No, El says she knows where Will is. We’re gonna find him.” There’s the sound of Richie scoffing. “Seriously?” Silence, Will guesses Mike’s nodding. “Then I wanna go too.” Will’s heart soars at the insistence in Richie’s voice to find him. Now that he knows Richie doesn’t hate him as much as he previously thought, he wants Richie to be the one to find him. Although he also doesn’t, because he doesn’t want Richie to ever come near this hellhole. 

“Fine.” Mike sighs. “C’mon.” Will reaches over and touches the light again, to get their attention. They can’t leave yet. This ‘El’ girl might think she knows where Will is, but he needs to tell them. And he needs to hurry, he can hear the demogorgon roaring in the distance. 

●●● ●●●● ● **\- -** ● ● **\---** ● **\--** ● **-** ● ● ● **-** ● **-** ● ● **\--**

“‘Shadow realm.’” Both Mike and Richie say at the same time. “What does that mean?” Richie asks, probably adjusting his glasses as he does way too often. “The shadow realm, like in dungeons and dragons. It’s like this world, but darker. And colder. A different universe, an exact replica of here.” Mike explains.

“He’s there?” Richie asks as Will collapses against the nightstand, tired from the communication. He feels his nose bleed, and he quickly wipes it away. From Will’s few days here, he’s learned the demogorgon can sense blood, like sharks, sort of. And it comes running to the source immediately.

“If he says so. That would make sense, if his only way of communication is morse code through the lights.” 

“And El knows how to get to this place?” Richie asks. “Yeah, she says she does. I guess she knows where the gate is.” Mike states. “Then let’s go.” Will drops his head back against the nightstand for a few minutes, listening as they leave, and once he’s mustered enough energy he leaves, going back to Castle Byers and curling up on the mattress for a nap, fully expecting to wake up in a hospital room.


	8. I Will Follow You Into The Dark || Richie

El made them walk all the way to the Byers’ house before stopping. “What are we doing here?” Mike asks, dropping his bike to the grass with a clatter. Richie sighs, pushing his hair out of his face. “Hiding.” El mutters, looking at the other teens, who are also dropping their bikes like Mike did. “Hiding? Who?”

“Will.” 

“No, this is his house, you understand? We need you to take us to him, not his house.” El looks back at the house. “Here.” Mike sighs and grabs El’s wrist to take her attention away from the house. “No, this is where he lives. We need to get to him.”

“Hiding. Here.” El repeats, pulling her wrist from Mike’s grasp. “He’s not hiding in his own fucking house, dumbass.” Richie mutters, frustrated and tired, sweaty from the walk. “Rich, be nice to her.” Bev states, punching Richie in the shoulder.

“El, this is Will’s house. This is where he lives, he can’t be hiding here.” Bev explains to El, tone nice and patient. El still seems frustrated, like the teens aren’t understanding. “You don’t understand.” She says, her only sentence that hasn’t been just broken english. She looks like she’s trying to say something, but she doesn’t know how to make the words come out of her mouth properly.

An ambulance speeds by at that moment, followed by two police cars. All the teens look at each other. 

“Will.”

They go as fast as they can, clamoring onto their bikes and speeding behind the vehicles on the road. Richie’s thighs burn from the pedaling, but he can’t stop. It’s Will, he’s been found.

They stop at the quarry, Richie jumping off his bike before it’s even stopped, and hiding behind the firetruck parked there. 

There’s three guys in the water, with one of those floating things for bodies. That’s the first red flag. Richie bites his lip anxiously, silently thanking Bev for her calming touch on his shoulder, the weight of her rings digging into his skin just enough to ground him.

Richie stares at the men as they load a body into the raft and start bringing it back. 

“That’s not Will, it can’t be.” Richie mutters, picking at the skin around his fingernails anxiously. “Rich…” Beverly trails off, voice thick with unshed tears. Richie shakes his head. “No, it can’t be.” He states, but his stomach drops as the raft gets pushed onto land, and he can get a better look at the body. And it’s Will.

“Fuck, no. It’s not- It’s not him. Guys, it’s not him.” Bev squeezes Richie’s shoulder sympathetically. He feels like he’s going to sob for the second time that day, but he pushes the tears away. He also feels like he’s going to puke.

“No.” He mutters, voice cracking. “Richie, honey. I’m so sorry.” Beverly murmurs, moving her arm from his shoulder and pulling him into a hug from the back. He refuses to move, to look away from the body. He needs to see any sign that it’s not Will.

“Fuck.” Beverly pulls him closer to her, but it does nothing to ease the ache in his heart. “I know.” She says, voice muffled by his shoulder. But she doesn’t know. Her dad died, sure, but he was an abusive pervert. That’s the only person close to her that died. She doesn’t know what it’s like to lose the love of your life. Or maybe not the love of your life, but the guy you love.

Does Richie love Will?

Yeah, he fucking does. And there’s no denying it anymore. He loves Will, despite only knowing him for a few months. But in those few months, he’s grown accustomed to Will and everything he does, and he loves every part of it. He loves his dumb bowl cut and the way he gets elf conscious of his beautiful laugh. He loves the mole right over his mouth that Will’s always hated, loves his dumb colorful clothing that gets him bullied because it’s all handmedowns from Jonathan or from the discount section of the store. Richie loves how quiet Will is, how kind he is, the way he listens, no matter how dumb the topic is. He loves everything about Will, everything he pretended to hate.

But he’s never going to see it again. 

Never going to see Will in the clothes that are too big for him, never going to see his smile anymore or the way he fiddles with his fingers when he talks to anyone other than the party, Richie, or Bev. And he’s never going to get to hear his soft voice again, never going to hear his laugh again.

That’s what makes Richie cry for the second time that day. As Mike rides off in anger, and Lucas and Dustin yell after him, as Bev hugs Richie tightly and El just stares at the body, he cries. And he doesn’t care that it’s in front of people that aren’t Bev. Not right now. Tomorrow, he probably will care. But right now, in this moment, the only thing he cares about is that Will’s gone for good.

“Richie?” Dustin asks, a bit surprised that Richie’s actually crying in front of them, and about Will, of all people. But he’s also not that surprised. Richie’s crush on Will was always sort of obvious, at least to him, just from the way Richie always teased Will for the smallest things, blushing the whole time, and adjusting his glasses every time he talked to Will. Those were his tells, the glasses and the teasing.

“Shut the fuck up, Dustin. I’m not in the mood.” Richie mutters, voice wet from the crying. Dustin doesn’t speak again. The teens stand there for a bit, just letting the reality of everything sink in, until Hopper walks over.

His eyes immediately go to Richie, and he sighs.

“Listen, you guys. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” He states, leaning against the firetruck the teens were hiding behind. “I know you all care for him,” Hopper glances at Richie. “A lot.” Richie glares at Hopper, not liking the way he can see right through him and know, immediately, just from a single glance, that Richie likes Will.

“But, you need to clear out. I can give you a ride home?” Richie finally sniffles and shakes his head, his crying starting to come to an end. He would really love a ride home, doesn’t think he has the energy to bike all the way home right now, but El needs a ride back, and Richie kind of also just wants to be alone with his thoughts.

“I’m gonna bike.” He states, pulling out of Bev’s grasp. He’s not surprised to find she’s crying too, and there’s probably a wet spot on his shoulder where her face was buried. Hopper looks to the rest of the teens. Lucas and Dustin nod, and Bev shakes her head as well. 

“Okay, well, if you’re riding with me, get your bikes and take ‘em to the car. You two, be careful, got it?” Bev nods, waiting until Hopper’s back to his car to grab El from where she was hiding in between the rock wall of the quarry and the firetruck, and helps her load on behind Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters will just be in Richie’s perspective. I tried to do the alternating thing but sadly there’s not much to write about in Will’s perspective when he’s in the upside down, it’s really just the same thing every day there. Sorry.


End file.
